Perpetual Insanity
by Naught
Summary: I just want it to stop, all of it. the voice of my dead godfather inside of my head, the lies, the betrayal, just stop it. I failed once to die , but this time I won't.


_Okay, this my first attempt at Hp fanfiction, so at least attempt to be civil. I'm not sure of this is going to turn into something more than a one-shot, or just remain as it is. Well, Harry Potter and co. all belong to J.K. so they don't belong to me, which is good because I'd probably lose them under my bed or something. Please R and R, so I can at least feel semi-accomplished._

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:Hello Harry.: The voice said. The voice which is in my head. Day after day, since the incident. To understand this, you must look back upon my years at Hogwarts, finding out my parents were murdered because of me, and killing a man in my first year. The next year I am blamed for the petrifactions of the students, not great for my self esteem. Third year I'm chased by a 'crazy blood-thirsty murder' who betrayed my parents. Fourth year I had the tri-wizard tournament, the Mad Eye impersonator, and Voldemort's return to deal with. Oh, plus the death of Cedric, yet another perk of being the 'savior' of the wizarding world I guess. Then fifth year, the year Sirius died because of me. It should have been me who went through that veil, but it wasn't.

Now since you know a bit about me, you would understand that I needed to die. Now, don't be shocked, I am, of course, being hunted by a psychopathic dark lord who won't hesitate to kill anyone close to me, so to me, death is like heaven. Of course since I'm a royal screw up, dieing can't even happen. Maybe slitting my wrists wasn't the brightest idea, but at the time it was all I could think of. I mean, it's sort of ironic dieing by your own hand instead of by the hand of the other. Oh wait, I forgot to add in the cursed prophecy. In short, it said I had to kill Voldemort, or he had to kill me. Oh flowers and rainbows for me, right?

Well, I messed up, and I lived, it seems a certain werewolf named Remus Lupin caught me by the smell of blood coming from the garage. Damnit, I was so close too. I could see the light, but he pulled me back, he ruined it all.

:Now Harry, it isn't polite to ignore someone is it: The voice said again, he's so annoying.

"Fuck off Sirius," I growled seemingly to no one. Right, Sirius Black, my now deceased godfather was in my head. Did I forget to mention I'm crazy, I mean hearing voices is never a good thing.

:Heh. Like father, like son. Bad mood again, you know, you can't keep up like this, it isn't healthy.:

"Neither is having the voice of a dead guy in your head," I shot back.

:To shay. Someone's a bit touchy today, aren't we:Sirius laughed his bark/laugh.

I winced, a headache rapidly building. "Look, I don't feel like being crazy today, so go bother someone else you damn mutt," I paused, "better yet, get the hell out of my head and stay there, I have enough problems without you in there screwing around."

:I'll shut up when you eat something, I mean look at you, you haven't had a proper meal since Dumbledore dropped you back off at this dreaded dump of a house.: This was him referencing the Dursley residence.

I shook my head, "For the six billionth time, I'm not fucking hungry!" Stalking over to my bed I flopped miserably down on it, pressing both hands to my ears.

:Kid……: Sirius started, but was interrupted with me drowning him out with a very mature and well timed, "LALALALALALALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU, YOU CRAZY FUCKING OLD FLEA BITTEN DOG!"

My Uncle, done with trying to make me stop talking to myself had finally snapped, like me, but to a smaller degree, at the time e had the television cranked up to maximum sound and the radio blaring some long forgotten oldies song. My Aunt, well she, in desperation, contacted the Order, who said I was just getting over a very strenuous and emotional ordeal.

Can you fucking believe them, first I'm their savior, then their pawn, then their weapon, then their scapegoat, and then some helpless child trapped in a nightmare! Yippie! Let's all pretend to be happy and love fucking lemon flavored candies, why don't we? I mean, I could grow a beard just like that old bastard Dumbledore, couldn't I? Then I could be exactly the same as him, happy, crazy, and fascinated with anything that had a higher percentage of sugar then you are supposed to have.

I mean, if you need me, make up your mind. If I had my choice, I'd have been dead long before this day, and Voldemort could do whatever the hell he wanted! Damn the world, it's not like they ever cared about me!

:Harry: Sirius growled:Stop spacing out, you're creeping me out.:

"Me creeping you out, try having a dead person's subconscious in your head, that's not freaky, is it? I sure hope not, BECAUSE I HAVE YOU'RE SUBCONSIOUS IN MY FUCKING HEAD!" I pounded my head with my hands, making my headache worse. "Well whatever, I'm going to sleep." And that I did.

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By the time I awoke, it was dusk, I used to love watching the sun rise, a new day approaching; now I love the sunset, the old day dieing and wasting away to nothingness. When I mentioned this to Sirus, he said I was too morbid and to lighten up a bit on the philosophy. He also mentioned something about some mind-numbing television called MTV, but I believe and reality television program could suffice in making me not think at all. I mean, if it works for the Dusley's then it could work for me I guess.

I think I'll go for a walk, I haven't been out of the house in two weeks, nor have I bathed, but it really doesn't bother me much. Stomping down the stairs, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my once unyielding hair which stuck up in every direction now hung limply around my shoulders in greasy strands, my once muscular frame was thin, sickly thin. My skin, once tan was pale, once again, almost sickly. A blood red lightning bolt scar stood out against my skin, drawing attention to it. Te scar which caused me to have to live this cursed half-life. But the thing which scared people the most were my eyes, dead eyes. Once a lively stunning green, now a defeated dull emerald, glazed over like I was in my own little world. Dark circled stood out against my skin, making it look like I haven't slept in years, which could be true, I haven't slept dreamlessly without the aide of a potion since my first year.

My uncle watches me warily over his newspaper as I drag myself out the front door, slamming it closed on my way out. I head the television quiet, and the radio turn off. Good, now everyone could stop calling the police about the ruckus coming from the house for a half hour or so. I head towards the park, and in a violent act of insane teenage rebellion, stomp on old Mrs.Wilx's flowers which looked too happy for my tastes.

Scuffing my old sneakers across the sidewalk, I hear the quiet footsteps of the Order member following about ten paces behind me; at least I know that the loud television sounds haven't totally made me deaf. I guess I'm still a liability, I mean, they wouldn't like me to do something rash, like publicly hanging myself or something, what if people discovered the boy-Who-Lived is suicidal? What a tragic day that would be, yet another pawn destroyed by the people for the people all in the good name of what is right. Shit. I have to lighten up on the philosophy; at least the mutt was right about something.

Thinking about the mutt, I just noticed he had been quiet for some large amount of time, a record for him. For all my luck he probably died from all the happy flowers and kittens I keep in there. I entered the park; a few people still remained, two lovers holding each other on a park bench. A middle aged slightly overweight man, who clearly didn't get another exercise, jogging and breathing heavily, leaving sweat marks on his insanely expensive track suit. A young mother yelling, "'Jimmy' get off the monkey bars because we are going home right this minute."

Meandering over the mulched playground, I sat down on one of the swings and began to idly push myself back and forth with my feet. The young mother cast me a look of fear mixed with curiosity. Great, yet another gossiper that I am destined to run into.

:Hey kiddo, cool down yet: Oh great, he was back.

"Heh, what do you think. And here I was hoping all my positive energies would kill you off a second time. I thought I smelled something decaying but I guess it was just my socks that I haven't changed in two weeks." I sarcastically replied. Everything I do now a days is sarcastic; it's the closest thing I find to amusement these days.

The woman glanced at me again, but this look was completely fear, it was intoxicating. The rush of power that is, I mean, to be able to make this woman fear me was amusing. Would someone really be afraid of a scrawny fifteen going on sixteen year old boy who looked like he had never bathed nor eaten anything? I guess so.

:Pup, you have to cut this out. Look, you're killing yourself.:

"Well if you fail once, try, try again. Isn't that what they always say?"

:That's not what I mean and you know it.:

"Do I?" I glanced at the woman who was rapidly throwing some child's play toys into a bag. The child was watching me. I grinned viciously; he squealed and hid behind his mother. I laughed, fear, fear, I loved it.

:Of course you do Harry, you're a bright boy.:

"Of course you are Harry, you're a bright boy." I mimicked, "Of course you are Harry, you are a raving psychopath, why don't you just see the light and kill yourself?"

:Now don't say that.:

"I did and I can."

:Teenagers, I hope I wasn't this bad when I was your age.:

"Nope, you didn't have the voice of a dead guy inside your head. Oh plus you were semi-sane, that might have had something to do with it."

:Oh…..Well I wasn't perfect.:

"Did you make a list of 101 best ways to die?"

:Eh……No, but I ran away from home.:

"Well don't go on giving me any bright ideas, that would sure sound great, 'I'm sorry officer, but the voice inside me head, which I should say is actually the voice of me now very dead godfather, told me he ran away as a teenager and I'd do anything to be just like him.'"

:Hmm….Not quite what I was trying to say.:

"I think I'm going to go play in traffic now."

:Harry.: Sirus commanded sternly:Don't even…….:

By that time I cut him off again, laughing insanely. Looking at the mother I saw she had trundled off with her son, peaking periodically behind her to see if the crazy man was following her.

I got up and began walking in the opposite direction, I heard the Order member get up and follow me, as soon as I could see the gate for the East side of the park, I began sprinting. Even though I hadn't properly eaten in weeks, years of being chased by Dudley and his friends while they played, 'Harry Hunting,' had finally paid off as it seemed I at least had a good jump start over my minder.

There was something special about the east side of the park, it seemed Sirius knew that as well. :Harry, what are you doing:

"I'm going to finish what I started." I puffed out; I could see the wrought iron fence opening.

:NO HARRY:

"YES," there was the road, a very busy road, considering it was the end of the work day, it was even busier, 'good,' I though to myself. 'Very good.'

I burst out of the park entrance, startling an old lady with a walker and a pink knitted beanie. Sprinting madly across the sidewalk, I saw my chance, a large white van that read, 'Reggie's Flower's' was speeding down the road, clearly over the speed limit, the man driving was probably dreaming about what he was going to have for dinner, or what would happen next on Survivor, but clearly not paying attention to the road.

I heard the Order member gasp and yell, "STOP HARY!" But I didn't stop. I didn't stop until I was in front of that big white truck with its absent minded driver.

There was no chance for that big white flower delivery truck to stop, absently I wondered what flowers they would use at my funeral, hopefully lilies, I like lilies. Carnations smell nasty, like death. I guess I could deal with carnations now that I think about it, but roses are always a nice touch, though a bit on the expensive side.

The collision was quick, well at least I think it was, because that's all I remember, seeing the dreamy face of the man who I had chosen to be my executioner. Then seeing his eyes widen in fear as he stepped on the brakes too late. If only he was paying more attention, if only the setting sun hadn't momentarily distracted him, if only the smell of the Chinese cookery which wafted through his open window hadn't made his mouth water and made his mind wander in the direction of dinner, if only he had stopped.

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_TA DA, that's it so far, love it? Hate it? Think it tastes like chicken? To let me know, just press the little button that says review at the bottom of your page. Yeah, that little button, you got it._


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